Allegiant Alternate Ending
by clw20
Summary: Like many others I was not a fan of the original ending of Veronica Roth's fantastic trilogy. So I rewrote parts of the last three chapters and the epilogue in an ending that brought the closure the original novel denied me. Many passages from the author's original work are used to stay close to canon. Some of the words are mine. None of the authors work is claimed as my own.
1. Chapter 50

*****I pick up towards the end of the original Chapter 50*****

**TRIS**

"I didn't come here to steal anything, David."

I twist and lunge toward the device. The gun goes off and pain races through my body. I don't even know where the bullet hits me. Only that it does.

I can still hear Caleb repeating the code for Matthew. With a quaking hand I type in the numbers on the keypad.

The gun goes off again.

**CALEB**

The moment that Tris disappears around the corner, a great weight lifts from my chest, only to almost immediately be replaced by another kind of ache. A deep chilling feeling similar to the one I used to have any time I would hide my books in my Abnegation bedroom and then later scold my wayward sister for whatever small failing I can find. It's guilt and this time more powerful than any other. It freezes me in place even as I'm aware of chaos occurring all around me and that I should seek more secure shelter.

There is a war inside me between my Erudite mind and Abnegation heart. My sister. She has just willingly gone to die for me. My father's voice surfaces in my memory, teaching both of us about sacrifice and the Abnegation way. I know she has done this out of love. And that the reason is because I was not. I see my parent's faces before me and wonder what they would say of their son. What their faces would look like. Filled with sadness? Love? Forgiveness?

I take a deep breath and look around the corner at the bodies Tris has left in her wake. The path is clear. I know what I have to do. What I want to do.

**TRIS**

There are black edges on my vision, but I can't tell whether from lingering effects of the Death Serum or because I am about to pass out from blood loss. It does not matter. I hear Caleb's voice speaking again. _The green button._

So much pain.

I start to fall, and slam my hand into the keypad on my way down. A light turns on behind the green button.

I hear a beep, and a churning sound.

I slide to the floor. I feel something warm spread beneath me. I reach for it. Red. Blood is a strange color. Dark.

**CALEB**

I slow as I make the final turn, logic leading to caution. There is no point is making this decision and dying before I can enact it. One guard stands before the smoking hole that Reggie's explosives have left of the doors to the Weapons Lab. His caution tells me everything I need to know. The Death Serum is likely still active inside.

Something catches my eye off to the right. It is the backpack that Tris carried this far, with the explosives and other supplies. Including the protection suit. A gun lies nearby, next to a guard with a single bullet between the eyes. I grab it. I have studied the human anatomy. My memory tells me the most vulnerable point and the amount of force it will require at the back of the guard's neck.

I sneak forward; his eyes are still fixed on the scene before him. Through a curling haze I can see the bodies of two additional guards collapsed in the room beyond. They were not Divergent. They could not defeat the Death Serum. It is definitely still active.

Once I have made the decision, it is relatively easy. I am tall enough to bring the proper angle and force. The guard crumples before me. As I knew he would. I grab the backpack and pull out the suit, slipping it over my clothes in seconds just as I had practiced. The hooded mask obscures my vision and the gloved hands make it difficult to grip the gun.

I advance forward, my body quaking as I step through the Death Serum, knowing I will not survive. Just ahead I see her, blood seeping into clothes from two bullet wounds. I see David, and I know I was right to follow.

David's gun is trained on Tris even as she works at the keyboard. I bring up the gun before me even as the first sensation of heaviness hits me. The Death Serum. I will not survive.

But Tris can.

I breathe in. Out. Aim. Just as Tobias taught me. And I smile a little, thinking that he will be relieved knowing his teaching was remembered at the crucial moment. I squeeze the trigger, my eyes never leaving the center of David's chest.

The Death Serum has begun to work inside me now. I can feel its effects spreading throughout my entire body. I stumble forward, wanting to see, to make sure that I haven't been too late. I dimly see Tris, her hand hitting the green button. The tension leaves my chest even as my eyes grow heavy and my thoughts jumbled.

I didn't fail.

**TRIS**

From the corner of my eye, I see David slumped over in his chair.

And my brother, in the suit I left in the backpack, stumbling into the room between us.

"Caleb?" I whisper in a cracked voice, fear enclosing itself around my heart. The Death Serum must be working its way through his system. His eyes, behind the plastic mask, already seem glassy. But he is still breathing.

"You've-" Caleb's voice is weak, but clear, "sacrificed enough." He exhales, and I watch his eyes close and I know that my brother is dead. But I refuse to focus on the grief that threatens to crush me. I push that aside. A great weight lifts from my shoulders because I know my brother, who hid his true nature from me throughout our childhood, made a new choice in faction. The Abnegation way of our parents. And his last words tell me that it wasn't out of grief. But out of love. For me.

I look again at David and notice the blood blooming across his clothing. Now I see the bullet hole must be buried somewhere in his shoulder. His arm hangs down limply just above where he dropped the gun he used to shoot me.

I shift my weight and push with my good arm against the floor to bring me to my feet. Pain blossoms from my left side knocking me back to the floor. I hear more running feet from outside the Weapons Lab and reach for the gun that dropped with Caleb.


	2. Chapter 51

**TOBIAS**

Evelyn brushes the tears from her eyes with her thumb. We stand by the windows, shoulder to shoulder, watching the snow swirl past. Some of the flakes gather on the windowsill outside, piling at the corners.

The feeling has returned to my hands. As I stare out at the world, dusted in white, I feel like everything has begun again, and it will be better this time.

"I think I can get in touch with Marcus over the radio to negotiate a peace agreement," Evelyn says. "He'll be listening in; he'd be stupid not to."

"Before you do that, I made a promise I have to keep," I say. I touch Evelyn's shoulder. I expected to see strain at the edges of her smile, but I don't. I feel a twinge of guilt. I didn't come here to ask her to lay down arms for me, to trade in everything she's worked for just to get me back. But then again, I didn't come here to give her any choice at all. I guess Tris was right-when you have to choose between two bad options, you pick the one that saves the people you love. I wouldn't have been saving Evelyn by giving her that serum. I would have been destroying her.

Peter sits with his back to the wall in the hallway. He looks up at me when I lean over him, his dark hair stuck to his forehead from the melted snow.

"Did you reset her?" he says.

"No," I say.

"Didn't think you would have the nerve."

"It's not about nerve. You know what? Whatever." I shake my head and hold up the vial of memory serum. "Are you still set on this?"

He nods.

"You could just do the work, you know," I say. "You could make better decisions, make a better life."

"Yeah, I could," he says. "But I won't. We both know that."

I do know that. I know that change is difficult, and comes slowly, and that it is the work of many days strung together in a long line until the origin of them is forgotten. He is afraid that he will not be able to put in that work, that he will squander those days, and that they will leave him worse off than he is now. And I understand that feeling-I understand being afraid of yourself.

So I have him sit on one of the couches, and I ask him what he wants me to tell him about himself, after his memories disappear like smoke. He just shakes his head. Nothing. He wants to retain nothing.

Peter takes the vial with a shaking hand and twists off the cap. The liquid trembles inside it, almost spilling over the lip. He holds it under his nose to smell it.

"How much should I drink?" he says, and I think I hear his teeth chattering.

"I don't think it makes a difference," I say.

"Okay. Well...here goes." He lifts the vial up to the light like he is toasting me.

When he touches it to his mouth, I say, "Be brave."

Then he swallows.

And I watch Peter disappear.

* * *

The air outside tastes like ice.

"Hey! Peter!" I shout, my breaths turning to vapor.

Peter stands by the doorway to Erudite headquarters, looking clueless. At the sound of his name-which I have told him at least ten times since he drank the serum-he raises his eyebrows, pointing to his chest. Matthew told us people would be disoriented for a while after drinking the memory serum, but I didn't think "disoriented" meant "stupid" until now.

I sigh. "Yes, that's you! For the eleventh time! Come on, let's go."

I thought that when I looked at him after he drank the serum, I would still see the initiate who shoved a butter knife into Edward's eye, and the boy who tried to kill my girlfriend, and all the other things he has done, stretching backward for as long as I've known him. But it's easier than I thought to see that he has no idea who he is anymore. His eyes still have that wide, innocent look, but this time, I believe it.

Evelyn and I walk side by side, with Peter trotting behind us. The snow has stopped falling now, but enough has collected on the ground that it squeaks under my shoes.

We walk to Millennium Park, where the mammoth bean sculpture reflects the moonlight, and then down a set of stairs. As we descend, Evelyn wraps her hand around my elbow to keep her balance, and we exchange a look. I wonder if she is as nervous as I am to face my father again. I wonder if she is nervous every time.

At the bottom of the steps is a pavilion with two glass blocks, each one at least three times as tall as I am, at either end. This is where we told Marcus and Johanna we would meet them-both parties armed, to be realistic but even.

They are already there. Johanna isn't holding a gun, but Marcus is, and he has it trained on Evelyn. I point the gun Evelyn gave me at him, just to be safe. I notice the planes of his skull, showing through his shaved hair, and the jagged path his crooked nose carves down his face.

"Tobias!" Johanna says. She wears a coat in Amity red, dusted with snowflakes. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to keep you all from killing each other," I say. "I'm surprised you're carrying a gun."

I nod to the bulge in her coat pocket, the unmistakable contours of a weapon.

"Sometimes you have to take difficult measures to ensure peace," Johanna says. "I believe you agree with that, as a principle."

"We're not here to chat," Marcus says, looking at Evelyn. "You said you wanted to talk about a treaty."

The past few weeks have taken something from him. I can see it in the turned-down corners of his mouth, in the purple skin under his eyes. I see my own eyes set into his skull, and I think of my reflection in the fear landscape, how terrified I was, watching his skin spread over mine like a rash. I am still nervous that I will become him, even now, standing at odds with him with my mother at my side, like I always dreamed I would when I was a child.

But I don't think that I'm still afraid.

"Yes," Evelyn says. "I have some terms for us both to agree to. I think you will find them fair. If you agree to them, I will step down and surrender whatever weapons I have that my people are not using for personal protection. I will the city and not return."

Marcus laughs. I'm not sure if it's a mocking laugh or a disbelieving one. He's equally capable of either sentiment, an arrogant and deeply suspicious man.

"Let her finish," Johanna says quietly, tucking her hands into her sleeves.

"In return," Evelyn says, "you will not attack or try to seize control of the city. You will allow those people who wish to leave and seek a new life elsewhere to do so. You will allow those who choose to stay to _vote_ on new leaders and a new social system. And most importantly, _you_, Marcus, will not be eligible to lead them."

It is the only purely selfish term of the peace agreement. She told me she couldn't stand the thought of Marcus duping more people into following him, and I didn't argue with her.

Johanna raises her eyebrows. I notice that she has pulled her hair back on both sides, to reveal the scar in its entirety. She looks better that way-stronger, when she is not hiding behind a curtain of hair, hiding who she is.

"No deal," Marcus says. "I am the leader of these people."

"Marcus," Johanna says.

He ignores her. "_You_ don't get to decide whether I lead them or not because you have a grudge against me, Evelyn!"

"Excuse me," Johanna says loudly. "Marcus, what she is offering is too good to be true-we get everything we want without all the violence! How can you possibly say no?"

"Because I am the rightful leader of these people!" Marcus says. "I am the leader of the Allegiant! I-"

"No, you are not," Johanna says calmly, "_I_ am the leader of the Allegiant. And you are going to agree to this treaty, or I am going to tell them that you had a chance to end this conflict without bloodshed and you sacrificed your pride, and you said no."

Marcus's passive mask is gone, revealing the malicious face beneath it. But even he can't argue with Johanna, whose perfect calm and perfect threat have mastered him. He shakes his head but doesn't argue again.

"I agree to your terms," Johanna says, and she holds out her hand, her footsteps squeaking in the snow.

Evelyn removes her glove fingertip by fingertip, reaches across the gap, and shakes.

"In the morning we should gather everyone together and tell them the new plan," Johanna says. "Can you guarantee a safe gathering?"

"I'll do my best," Evelyn says.

I check my watch. An hour has passed since Amar and Christina separated from us near the Hancock building, which means he probably knows that the serum virus didn't work. Or maybe he doesn't. Either way, I have to do what I came here to do-I have to find Zeke and his mother and tell them what happened to Uriah.

"I should go," I say to Evelyn. "I have something else to take care of. But I'll pick you up from the city limits tomorrow afternoon?"

"That sounds good," Evelyn says, and she rubs my arm briskly with a gloved hand, like she used to when I came in from the cold as a child.

"You won't be back, I assume?" Johanna says to me. "You've found a life for yourself on the outside?"

"I have," I say. "Good luck in here. The people outside-they're going to try to shut the city down. You should be ready for them."

Johanna smiles. "I'm sure we can negotiate with them."

She offers me her hand, and I shake it. I feel Marcus's eyes on me like an oppressive weight threatening to crush me. I force myself to look at him.

"Good-bye," I say to him, and I mean it.

* * *

Hana, Zeke's mother, has small feet that don't touch the ground when she sits in the easy chair in their living room. She is wearing a ragged black bathrobe and slippers, but the air she has, with her hands folded in her lap and her eyebrows raised, is so dignified that I feel like I am standing in front of a world leader. I glance at Zeke, who is rubbing his face with his fists to wake up.

Amar and Christina found them, not among the other revolutionaries near the Hancock building, but in their family apartment in the Pire, above Dauntless headquarters. I only found them because Christina thought to leave Peter and me a note with their location on the useless truck. Peter is waiting in the new van Evelyn found for us to drive to the Bureau.

"I'm sorry," I say. "I don't know where to start."

"You might begin with the worst," Hana says. "Like what exactly happened to my son."

"He was seriously injured during an attack," I say. "There was an explosion, and he was very close to it."

"Oh God," Zeke says, and he rocks back and forth like his body wants to be a child again, soothed by motion as a child is.

But Hana just bends her head, hiding her face from me.

Their living room smells like garlic and onion, maybe remnants from that night's dinner. I lean my shoulder into the white wall by the doorway. Hanging crookedly next to me is a picture of the family-Zeke as a toddler, Uriah as a baby, balancing on his mother's lap. Their father's face is pierced in several places, nose and ear and lip, but his wide bright smile and dark complexion are more familiar to me, because he passed them both to his sons.

"He has been in a coma since then," I say. "And..."

"And he isn't going to wake up," Hana says, her voice strained. "That is what you came to tell us, right?"

"Yes," I say. "I came to collect you so that you can make a decision on his behalf."

"A decision?" Zeke says. "You mean to _unplug_ him or not?"

"Zeke," Hana says, and she shakes her head. He sinks back into the couch. The cushions seem to wrap around him.

"Of course we don't want to keep him alive that way," Hana says. "He would want to move on. But we would like to go see him."

I nod. "Of course. But there's something else I should say. The attack...it was a kind of uprising that involved some of the people from the place where we were staying. And I participated in it."

I stare at the crack in the floorboards right in front of me, at the dust that has gathered there over time, and wait for a reaction, any reaction. What greets me is only silence.

"I didn't do what you asked me," I say to Zeke. "I didn't watch out for him the way I should have. And I'm sorry."

I chance a look at him, and he is just sitting still, staring at the empty vase on the coffee table. It is painted with faded pink roses.

"I think we need some time with this," Hana says. She clears her throat, but it doesn't help her tremulous voice.

"I wish I could give it to you," I say. "But we're going back to the compound very soon, and you have to come with us."

"All right," Hana says. "If you can wait outside, we will be there in five minutes.

* * *

The ride back to the compound is slow and dark. I watch the moon disappear and reappear behind the clouds as we bump over the ground. When we reach the outer limits of the city, it begins to snow again, large, light flakes that swirl in front of the headlights. I wonder if Tris is watching it sweep across the pavement and gather in piles by the airplanes. I wonder if she is living in a better world than the one I left, among people who no longer remember what it is to have pure genes.

Christina leans forward to whisper into my ear. "So you did it? It worked?"

I nod. In the rearview mirror I see her touch her face with both hands, grinning into her palms. I know how she feels: safe. We are all safe.

"Did you inoculate your family?" I say.

"Yep. We found them with the Allegiant, in the Hancock building," she says. "But the time for the reset has passed-it looks like Tris and Caleb stopped it."

Hana and Zeke murmur to each other on the way, marveling at the strange, dark world we move through. Amar gives the basic explanation as we go, looking back at them instead of the road far too often for my comfort. I try to ignore my surges of panic as he almost veers into streetlights or road barriers, and focus instead on the snow.

I have always hated the emptiness that winter brings, the blank landscape and the stark difference between sky and ground, the way it transforms trees into skeletons and the city into a wasteland. Maybe this winter I can be persuaded otherwise.

We drive past the fences and stop by the front doors, which are no longer manned by guards. We get out, and Zeke seizes his mother's hand to steady her as she shuffles through the snow. As we walk into the compound, I know for a fact that Caleb succeeded, because there is no one in sight. That can only mean that they have been reset, their memories forever altered.

"Where is everyone?" Amar says.

We walk through the abandoned security checkpoint without stopping. On the other side, I see Cara. The side of her face is badly bruised, and there's a bandage on her head, but that's not what concerns me. What concerns me is the troubled look on her face.

"What is it?" I say.

Cara smiles weakly, and I feel the fear that momentarily gripped me slipping away, "We were successful, but took losses. Tris," here eyes meet mine and fear slams back into me.

"Where is she?" I say.

"She took two bullets and none of the doctors were in any shape to operate. Matthew and I managed to remove the one that remained lodged in her abdomen. But I am not a doctor." The concern is back and I know that Tris is in trouble.

Cara is still talking, Christina's voice raised in alarm and anger, even as I'm sprinting toward the infirmary. I don't stop until I reach Uriah's room. Matthew stands before the windows of the room beyond and I know that's where Tris is.

"She's alive?" Is all I can bring myself to ask.

Matthew looks up, surprised. He must have been deep in thought to not have heard me approach. "Yes. She was very lucky. The arm was through-and-through," I'm only partially listening now because the only words that matter are the ones that tell me she is alive. I move forward to the door, but through the window I can see her, small and quiet on the bed inside, "The second bullet went into her left side. But it missed all the vital organs-"

I don't hear anymore because I'm already inside the room. It is silent but for the sound of the heart monitor. And in that moment I feel as though the slow beeping sound is the best in the world. No, the second best. I'm at the bedside, and I take her small hand in mine. It is warm. Not cold. I hold it to my face briefly before leaning forward and placing my ear gently to her chest. There it is, the best sound in the world. Her heartbeat.

"We have her on a sedative." Cara has caught up with me and as I lift my head, my hand still gripping Tris' I see that she and Matthew have followed me in. Christina is pressed against the glass and I know they have told her to stay outside, that Tris needs space to heal. I smile at Christina, meeting her eyes so she knows that Tris is okay. She is here.

"She protested, wanting to be there to meet you, but sedatives aren't a kind of serum she could fight." Matthew's voice is slightly amused. I can picture it and I am thankful that they did not let her win.

"Thank you." I say, my eyes full of tears, my heart full of happiness, "Thank you for saving her."

"She's not out of danger yet-" Cara tries to say but I cut her off.

"She will hang on. You have helped her enough that she can wait until the Bureau doctors can attend to her more completely." I say it, and I know it is true. We have made it this far. And while my instinct is to say that I will never let anything happen to her again, I know that isn't true. We will help each other through whatever there is to come, but she doesn't need my protection. She is strong enough, and so am I. The whole world is different now, and open to possibilities.


	3. Chapter 52

**TRIS**

I can feel the lingering heaviness of the sedative and a dull pain. The fact that it's dull tells me I'm probably on pain killers. My body wants to stretch, the same as if I've been asleep for too long and stretching is the only way to shake off the lethargy. Too late, I remember that stretching is a bad idea and I feel a sharp, painful pull in my side. That's right. I was shot. Twice.

Opening my eyes I see the only thing in the world that matters. Tobias. His head rests on the bed near where he is gripping my hand. His face is peaceful and I can tell by the stubble present that he has been at my side for at least a day.

"Tobias." I say and it comes out as a cracked whisper, barely audible. I swallow to try again, but his eyes fly open and search my face.

"Don't move. I'll get a doctor." He says and I start to protest, not wanting him to leave, but instead of getting up, he presses a lighted button I didn't notice before.

"Did it work?" I ask even though I know that I was able to release the virus serum I know there are so many things that could have gone wrong.

Tobias slowly smiles, "Yes. Everything. It worked." He understands then. My brother's sacrifice, born out of love for me and selflessness, was not in vain.

"Tell me." I say, reaching out with my uninjured arm and pulling weakly at Tobias' shirt. Wanting him closer. Suddenly I'm desperate to feel his warmth and vitality.

"Tell you what?" He asks, amusement glittering in his eyes as he gingerly shifts me toward the far edge of the bed and crawls in next to me, his arm carefully draped to avoid any contact with my left side.

"Tell me about this new world we have created." I say closing my eyes and letting my cheek rest against his chest. His hearts beats strongly beneath me and I breathe him in. Perhaps now, now that our plans have taken their course, and apparently been successful, we can leave all violence and revolution behind and I will never have to be far from the sound of his heartbeat again.

"It's amazing Tris. The Bureau is still shaking off the effects of the memory virus but we have been feeding them the truth: that human nature is complex, that all our genes are different, but neither damaged nor pure." He pauses, his hand gently stroking my hair, "We told them one lie: that their memories were erased because of a freak accident, and that they were on the verge of lobbying the government for equality for GDs."

I open my eyes and shift to look at his eyes, "Don't say that word. Ever again. I didn't say it clearly enough before, but there is nothing _damaged_ about you. You are more than the sum of your genetics. And that is the truth that people need to accept." He is nodding and cradles my face against his chest again.

"I know. I couldn't hear you at first. I was so willing to accept that a part of me was broken. That that could explain the pain and failure I've felt in my life. But I know now." Tobias' voice is soft, almost a whisper. But I let myself relax again because I can tell that he is in a good place and no longer tortured by the idea that he is somehow less than I am. We know the truth. People have always done evil. And there is no answer or solution that can be found within their genetic code.

"I've been thinking," I say and I meet his eyes again, "the faction system. It's broken now, but it wasn't without merit. It was the strict adherence to the idea that a person should only align themselves with one that allowed for the decisions and discord. "

"It can't be salvaged, Tris. There's too much bad blood on all sides." I know he's thinking of his mother and of the factionless.

"And I'm not saying that it should be reinstated. But perhaps there is room in this new world, for people to develop an affinity for a particular way of life, that represented by their preferred faction, but instead of allowing them to immerse themselves only in that path, they are expected to learn from all." She smiles at me, "It's like you said, you want to be good, and brave, and intelligent, and selfless and honest. Shouldn't everyone?"

He smiles back at me and kisses my forehead, "Yes. But how about we let you heal before we explore any more sweeping societal changes." He grins and I laugh, which is a mistake because the bullet wound in my side makes it almost impossible for me to use my oblique muscles without stabbing pain.

Luckily the doctor comes in then being led by Cara, looking a little confused, but his eyes focus as soon as he is handed a chart that I didn't notice hanging at the end of my bed. Cara smiles at me but does not say anything, letting the doctor attend to me first. There will be time for reunions, and planning, and grieving, later. A feeling of peace settles over me, more potent and real that the Peace Serum from Amity and I am deeply aware that not only do we have time, but more importantly, we have life.


	4. Epilogue

**ONE YEAR LATER - TRIS**

The train comes to a stop on the platform and I watch, excitement mingled with sorrow, as Peter pushes Shauna's wheelchair over the lip and into the car. Tobias extends his hand toward me, still concerned that I will over exert myself despite my having been officially pronounced healed by Bureau and Erudite doctors months before.

In the past, I might have held it against him. I don't now. We know we are strong, and stronger still together.

"Get a move on Tris, we haven't got all day!" Christina says laughing as she jumps onto the train. I can tell she would have rather been running alongside the train and jumping onboard as we used to. But we wanted to make sure Shauna could come, though I was surprised she was interested.

The train car begins to move forward again as Cara directs it toward the Hancock building. Zeke, Christina, Shauna, Matthew, Cara and Peter have asked to join us today. I am thankful as always for the friends I have been able to keep. For the forgiveness I have been granted.

The others joke and make small talk as Tobias and I stand at the doors, watching the Hancock building grow larger in front of us. He is hiding his fear well. As always. I take his hand and let him anchor me in the car. My other hand grips the blue and grey urn that holds my brother's ashes. Blue and grey, for each of the factions that helped shape the person who was my brother Caleb.

Traditional Erudite ceremonies are cursory affairs where tribute is paid to the contributions and work of the deceased before everyone goes back to their individual projects. Abnegation funerals are quiet, somber events. Today I would say the final goodbye to Caleb, and pay tribute to him in the only way I knew how.

Chicago has changed so much in the past year that it is hardly recognizable. Many factionless left the city following the peace brokered between my parents and Johanna Reyes. It was no surprise that Johanna was elected as the leader of this new version of Chicago. Tobias and I have a neighbor, an expert in the old histories, who calls Chicago 'the fourth city' because it has had to rebuild itself four times.

Our new city embraces the ideals represented by all the factions, and now members who display an affinity or talent for a particular faction can seek additional training in the ideals and skills traditionally associated with that faction, but they are also required to learn and participate in complementary factions. We envisioned this system so that the weaknesses of each faction would be bolstered by the strengths in the others. So far, it is working. And the intermingling of the factions will help ensure that the manipulation that led to the persecution of Abnegation can never occur again.

People from the fringe who have flocked into the city, eager for the possibilities the new system will allow have also brought with them ideals from past that have provided a loose framework for the new government.

Tobias yells over the noise of the wind that we are almost to the Hancock building. His arm circles around my waist, pulling me closer and fitting me into his side. I smile up at him and take a moment to remember our wedding:

_ It was a small affair, though Johanna wanted to use it as a celebration to bring the whole city together. Tobias, who had just taken a job as her assistant, insisted that we had had enough attention and it was time we were afforded a little privacy._

_The ceremony took place at Abnegation Headquarters on the wooden floor of the largest meeting room. Johanna presided with Christina and our other friends gathered around us in a circle. The vows were simple and to the point, and as soon as they were over, Christina and the other Dauntless set about cheering and filling the empty building with noise. _

_When we made to exit the building we found that Johanna had only allowed us to keep the ceremony private. Outside we found dozens of people gathered from every faction, grateful for the sacrifice we had made to bring them their freedom and safety, and who insisted on joining us in celebrating our union. And perhaps best of all, there was cake._

The train slows to a halt before the Hancock building and I jump off, a feeling of great joy welling up within me. Peter and Matthew help Shauna off the train and into the elevator, the rest of us crowding around afterward. Zeke hits the button for floor 99. I expect to feel Tobias stiffen behind me, but the grip of his hand is just as calm as it was on the train. Strong. Not afraid. Perhaps now he is only Three.

As the elevator ascends Christina and Shauna talk about their work for the city helping people from the fringe relocate into Chicago. Cara and Matthew work in the old Erudite labs, and though they are tackling many projects, the one they are currently discussing is the designs for a system that will enable paralyzed individuals to recover the use of all their limbs with the aid of robotics. They have made it their private mission to help Shauna to be able to walk again. Our other friends have integrated into jobs that traditionally were filled by Dauntless: policemen, guards, trainers.

I have taken a job in the newly formed Education Department set up by Johanna's government working to integrate the training and core ideals of each faction into a greater whole, and setting up a system that will pass those ideals on to future generations. In my spare time, I help with the training of those who show an affinity for Dauntless. We teach the entire Dauntless Manifesto so as to discourage thrill seeking and ruthlessness, but emphasize honoring ordinary acts of bravery and the courage it takes for one person to stand up for another. Then we send our students to Erudite to learn how to make logical decisions, and Abnegation, to learn how to care for others, that the strength we gain as Dauntless, may never be turned in cruelty against others.

We ascend higher, and the change in pressure causes my ears to pop. I am grinning in anticipation, and grip Caleb's ashes tighter. I don't think he would have ever been able to bring himself to make the leap off the Hancock building when he was alive. But then, until I saw him in the Weapon's Lab, I didn't think he was strong enough to be selfless either. Perhaps he would have surprised me.

**TOBIAS**

Tris looks alive with energy. Her face flushed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She looks strong. She _is_ strong. I don't often allow myself to consider what might have happened if she had not survived that day at the Bureau. I am sure it exists somewhere in my fear landscape, waiting for me. But I do not dwell on it. Instead I bask in the knowledge that she is healthy, and that we have each other. Life damages us, every one. We can't escape that damage. But I have learned as well: We can be mended. And Tris and I, over the course of the past year, we have been mending each other.

The elevator doors open and I feel the panic start to grip me. I clutch Tris' hand tighter as she pulls me forward, laughing, "Come on Four. We will do this. Together." At the top she pulls me closer and kisses me.

Zeke runs over to the zip line and clips on the first harness.

"Christina," he says. "It's all you."

Christina stands near the sling, tapping her chin with a finger.

"What do you think? Face-up or backward?"

"Face down, head first." Tris says as though there is no other choice.

"Backward," Matthew says. "I wanted to go face-up so I don't wet my pants, and I don't want you copying me."

"Going face-up will only make that more likely to happen, you know," Christina says. "So go ahead and do it so I can start calling you Wetpants."

Christina gets in the sling feet-first, belly down, just as Tris suggested. They share an excited smile. "This one's for you Caleb!" Christina yells just before she plunges over the side. I can't watch. I close my eyes as she travels farther and farther away, and even as Matthew and then Shauna do the same thing. They each take a moment to say something about Caleb, who made the ultimate sacrifice out of love for his sister, and allowed her to come back to me. I can hear their cries of joy, like birdcalls on the wind.

Cara goes next, taking a deep breath. Soon it will be just Tris and me with Zeke to help us into the harnesses. Cara climbs into the sling, unsteady and Zeke straps her in. She crosser her arms over her chest, and he sends her out, over Lake Shore Drive, over the city. I don't hear anything from her, not even a gasp.

Tris turns to me, "I think it's time." And I know she doesn't mean for me to go. She means to say goodbye, finally, to Caleb. She steps into the harness and has Zeke secure the urn behind her so the ashes will stream out behind her. Tears shine in her eyes as Tris reaches for me, pulling me closer to the edge than I want to go, but I move toward her on wooden legs.

"See you at the bottom." She whispers in my ear, kissing me deeply. I nod, stepping back from the edge, joining Zeke. And then she disappears, and I can hear here joyful cries fading into the distance as she hurtles away from me.

Then it's just Zeke and I left, staring at each other.

"Let's get this over with." I say, and though my voice is steady, my body is shaking, "Before I chicken out."

"You're _Four_, Dauntless legend!" Zeke says, grinning, "You can face anything." I cross my arms and inch closer to the edge of the roof. Even though I'm several feet away, I feel my body pitching over the edge and shake my head again, and again, and again. I turn my thoughts to more pleasant things, clinging to the thought of Tris and my apartment in the city, 100 stories below us, safe on the ground. I picture carrying her across the threshold of our new home, an Abnegation tradition showing love for your wife in providing them a safe place to live. The place where we will raise our kids. I can picture where Tris placed the glass statue, the gift my mother gave to us before she left the city, the memory of her enduring love for me. It sits in the center of our mantle. Perhaps in time, I will talk to Tris about asking my mother to come back and join us in the city.

"Hey, come on. You don't want to keep her waiting down there do you?" Zeke says pulling me back into the present. He puts his hand on my shoulder, comforting.

"Of course not. I'm just waiting for the ashes to get out of the way first." It's a lie, but a pretty good one.

"Of course you are." Zeke says, and I know he doesn't buy it. Thinking of the future ahead of all of us, I find I can smile, and it helps calm the hammering of my heart.

I climb into the sling, my hands shaking so much I can barely grip the sides. Zeke tightens the straps across my back and legs. I stare down Lake Shore Drive, swallowing bile, and start to slide.

Suddenly I want to take it back, but it's too late, I am already diving toward the ground. I'm screaming so loud, I want to cover my own ears. I feel the scream living inside me, filling my chest, through and head.

The wind stings my eyes but I force them open, and in my moment of blind panic I understand why Tris goes down this way, face-first-it makes her feel like she's flying, like she's a bird.

Just as I am able to appreciate the expanse visible before me and the security of the harness and sling preventing me from reaching a swift death, I realize that I have stopped moving.

The ground is only a few feet below me, close enough to jump down. I see the others, Tris in the middle of them, her eyes shining and proud. They have gathered in a circle, their arms clasped to form a net of bone and muscle to catch me in. I press my face to the sling and laugh.

I twist my arms behind my back to undo the straps holding me in. I drop into their arms like a stone. They catch me, their bones pinching at my back and legs, and lower me to the ground.

There is an awkward silence as I stare at the Hancock building in wonder. Tris embraces me, clutching me tightly to her and I kiss her, her lips, neck, and face. Someone coughs in an obvious and unsubtle manner.

Breaking apart, Tris keeps my hand in hers and looks around at all our friends. When she speaks, her voice rings clearly in the cool Chicago morning air. "My brother Caleb wasn't a perfect man. He was at war with himself much of his life, his nature fighting against the teachings of our parents, and perhaps at times, against his better judgment. Guilt almost drove him to do the right thing for the wrong reasons. But in the end, it was love that took him from us, love and a truly selfless act. Caleb Prior was Erudite. He was Abnegation. He was more than both. He was so brave."


End file.
